


Leaves from the Vine

by Azkaabanter



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Mourning, Moving On, Ozai’s awful parenting, Sadness, Zuko’s death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24834226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azkaabanter/pseuds/Azkaabanter
Summary: Firelord Ozai doesn’t understand the concept of forgiveness. All he knows is to cause pain and suffering, evident by the murder of his son in an Agni-Kai.Iroh, however, was gifted with enough empathy for himself and his brother. He regrets nothing more than the fact that empathy wasn’t enough to save his beloved nephew.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 130





	Leaves from the Vine

Iroh trudged slowly up the hill, his feet dragging with every step. He tried to be positive, he really did.

But it hurt: it always would, every day for the rest of his life.

The sky was rich with warm oranges and yellows, with fluffy white clouds adorning the heavens. He smiled softly to himself- the spirits were being kind to him that night.

The picnic basket felt heavy on the general’s arm, almost weighing him down. The photo inside was most likely the cause, though it could just be that every day he was growing older, though of course he denied it. Soon there would be no one left who truly cared for him enough to love him, even though he was no longer a part of the mortal world. That thought sickened Iroh- what an awful fate, to have no one remembering you. That’s why he went there, to that hill, every year on the anniversary of his beloved son’s death. Though now, his place of mourning held another soul for what would be the third year in a row.

Finally the firebender crested the hill, soft grasses tickling his feet and a warm breeze blowing through his hair. He breathed in deeply through his nose, enjoying the earthy scent of nature mixed with the smell of smoke and cooking meats from inside the walls of Ba Sing Se. It was a beautiful city, one that Iroh was grateful to be living in every single day. He was happy- well, as happy as he could be. The General counted his blessings, of course; he had to. He was free of the fire nation, he had a very successful tea shop, he was still the head of the White Lotus- these were things that he’d earned with kindness and understanding instead of blood and violence.

Iroh slowly walked to the grizzled tree which occupied the top of the hill, and knelt down at its base. He ran his hands along the trunk and down onto the exposed portions of the roots, letting out a long sigh. No tears, not yet. 

He turned to the picnic basket beside him and reached in as a robin-jay chick tweeted up in the foliage.

“Beautiful song, little one.” Iroh said, setting the picture frame in his hands against the trunk gingerly. “One day your voice will be heard by countless numbers of people, if you choose to venture out of your home.” He placed a stick of incense on a dish in front of the photo, and after looking around repeatedly, used firebending for a split second to light it. “Though home is where the heart is, if one never leaves, then one can never grow.” A small wisp of jasmine scented smoke rose from the burner.

Jasmine tea had always been Zuko’s favorite.

Iroh knelt with his head hung, feeling the final warm rays of that day's sunshine washing his back with warmth and energy. He knew it would never get easier to come out here, but it was what he deserved.

“Happy birthday, my nephew.” Iroh whispered, his voice cracking as he finally brought his eyes up to look at Zuko’s image. A thirteen year old boy who was killed by his father for speaking out of turn in the name of ethics. “If only I could’ve helped you... Spirits, I should’ve stopped him.” Tears started to gather behind the old general’s eyes. “I know that blaming myself won’t bring you back, but still, I wish more than anything that it would.” 

He was just a boy, and he had so much _promise._ Just the fact that he spoke out against the immoral plans that were proposed showed that as an heir he could’ve saved the Fire Nation from itself once Ozai was gone. Perhaps it was cruel for Iroh to wish death upon his own brother, but it was that same brother’s rulings that ended with the killing of his son, and the nephew that may as well have been his son as well. That boy gave him hope for the future.

Iroh wept quietly to himself as the small bird continued to sing and the wind continued to rustle the leaves and grasses surrounding him. Nature would not stop because one soul was mourning.

The memory of Zuko’s laughter permeated Iroh’s brain, and it was a sound that he never, for the rest of his life, wanted to forget. It was pure joy, so unlike that of his younger sister. Azula had been getting in the way of young Aang and his friends far too much for the General’s liking, and yet he refused to interfere with Aang’s avatar journey. Iroh liked to think that the two could’ve been friends if time had allowed them to meet. Maybe instead of himself being the Avatar’s firebending master, it could’ve been Zuko instead. They would’ve learned so much from each other.

“Leaves from the vine, falling so slow-“ Iroh sang the tune that used to be reserved for Lu Ten for Zuko now, because in every way except for blood, both boys were his sons. The tears that rolled down his cheeks were hot and angry, full of repressed guilt and despair, but slowly, he came to acceptance. There was no room for anger in his heart- not anymore. “like fragile, tiny shells, drifting in the foam.

Little soldier boy, come marching home.

Brave soldier boy, come marching home.” 

In that moment, Iroh knew that Zuko was with him- he could almost feel the prince’s hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. Iroh smiled softly and chuckled. 

“Spending your birthday with me, my boy? I do always love when you come visit me.” The firebender said, reveling in the feeling of closeness to his nephew’s spirit. “I’m so proud of you, Zuko. You stood up for what was right while I sat in silence and allowed for my brother to continue with his tyranny.” Iroh took the picture in his hands and looked at it before holding it to his chest in a hug. The sounds of the robin-jay were replaced with that of cicada-moths, and the sun rays became a soft silver glow provided by a waning moon. “I shouldn’t have stood by and allowed Ozai to make you fight in an Agni-Kai.”

He knew he was a different man. His top knot was gone, as were his medals and armor. He would never be the same, and he never wanted to be. Iroh wanted to be a man that Zuko could look up to if he were still alive, and that was exactly what he felt he was doing.

“I’m making it up to you, Prince Zuko. I’m working with the Avatar and his friends to avenge your death. Ozai will pay for what he did to you.” Iroh said angrily. “Your death was the spark I needed to truly take a stand. It shouldn’t have come to that point…” He wanted nothing more than to see Zuko feeding the turtleducks with Ursa again.

Such an innocent child put into the worst situation imaginable.

He didn’t deserve to die by his father’s hand.

But no matter what it took, Iroh would avenge him. 

The old General gathered his basket, photo, and incense burner together, and stood slowly. The night had fully set in; the stars were shining brightly. Iroh stared at that old oak tree, a strange look on his face. The robin-jay’s mother had returned, both sleeping soundly in their nest. 

“Being lonely is no fun, is it, little one?” Iroh spoke to the birds.

“Who are you talking to?” A familiar voice behind him said happily, causing the rest of the tears in his eyes to finally recede. He wasn’t lonely, not anymore.

“I find that sometimes nature appreciates a bit of kind conversation.” Iroh said, and he could almost feel the young girl behind him rolling her eyes.

“Sounds like crazy talk to me.” Toph laughed, earning nothing more than a chuckle from the firebender.

“I suppose it would.” The old man replied, the picture of Zuko’s face still fresh in his mind. 

“Well anyway, everyone is waiting for you to come down so we can have dinner and talk strategy. Aang is still nervous about working in his firebending, and we figured that having you there to watch would help him calm down.” Toph rushed the words, which didn’t bother Iroh at all. It gave him a sense of purpose to be aiding the Avatar and his friends.

“Well I wouldn’t want to keep Sokka from his fireflakes!” Iroh said joyfully, following Toph back down the hill towards the city. For a split second, the old man turned back and looked at the old tree, a few words on the tip of his tongue.

“I love you, my son. Your death will not be forgotten.”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by art made by chromaticmars on TikTok. My angst-writing skills are pretty rusty, so I’m sorry that it isn’t as sad as my other works. I hope you enjoyed :)
> 
> Here’s a link to the TikTok: https://vm.tiktok.com/JJ7gYoM/


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